


somewhere only we know

by IzzyAguecheek



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I think?, M/M, Spoilers, don't read this lol, listen i just made myself sad, seriously this is gonna spoil the ending of the movie, so if you haven't finished it yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 05:36:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18230621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IzzyAguecheek/pseuds/IzzyAguecheek
Summary: Ten years after graduation, the class of 1959 meets back at Welton Academy for a reunion. Todd, Dalton, Knox, Meeks and Pitts have a moment in the indian cave.





	somewhere only we know

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was watching Dead Poets Society for maybe the 5th time and finally decided to write the fanfiction I've been meaning to write since the second time or so I watched it. It was supposed to be super short but things got out of my control and I just rolled with it.
> 
> May I warn you, english is not my first language, it's pretty late at night where I am, and I read this again real quick to check for mistakes, but it's not beta'd or anything so if there are any mistakes, please let me know!
> 
> Title from the song "Somewhere Only We Know", by Keane.

The rest of campus hasn’t changed in the least, but the cave seems smaller now that they’re men, as if the weight of the years fills the space that there used to be when they were just boys. They had a lot of dreams then, but imagination is a lot lighter than time, and now the cave is crowded, forcing them to press their backs against the stone walls, to bend their necks awkwardly and bump shoulders to fit inside.

Todd didn’t think they would come here. He hoped, imagined it somewhere in the back of his mind on the sleepless nights he spent worrying about the reunion, but didn’t really think he would have what it took to suggest it to the others. It’s been so long since they’ve even heard of each other – five years, minimum, and he’s not sure he’s even allowed to say he knows these people anymore. He was afraid none of them would be able to find the way to the cave again.

But he didn’t have to suggest, in the end. When he came into the auditorium where his former classmates were gathered, Knox Overstreet immediately stopped him to greet him with a handshake, saying:

“Todd! Looking good. How you’re doing?” The he leaned in closer and whispered, “We’re heading to the cave in ten minutes. You’re up? Charlie’s gonna meet us there.”

Todd didn’t know what surprised him the most: the suggestion or the mention of Charlie Dalton. As far as he knew, Dalton hadn’t been invited to the reunion, as he hadn’t graduated with the class, but he should’ve known that this wouldn’t stop him from showing up.

Knox didn’t really give Todd time to answer. He proceeded to drag him towards the other classmates, all the while efficiently asking him about his life – he’d heard Todd was a teacher now, was that true? Inspired by Mr. Keating, certainly. Had he gotten married? Did he still live nearby? Did he have any children? How did he feel about their current president?

He sounded so _grown up_ now, so different from the desperately romantic boy he had been, even when he was talking about his wife, whom, Todd found out, he had married three years ago. Some of that boyish warmth was still there, in the comforting hand he kept on Todd’s shoulder while guiding him and in the dimples that showed up when he smiled, but it was very clear he was a professional man now, used to responsibility and to living with his feet on the ground. The contrast was baffling, and Todd wondered if he had changed that much himself. He doubted it.

He mumbled a few vague answers to Knox’s questions, not wanting to tell him about Carter, the man he shared his life with. He didn’t think Knox would have a problem with it, not really, but thinking of the subject here, in Welton, made him think of Neil, and thinking of Neil made him think of how they’d never–

Steven Meeks and Gerard Pitts were waiting for them a few feet away from the door. Meeks was slightly taller than the last time Todd had seen him, and he held a very familiar green covered book. Pitts’ hair had gray strands, despite the fact he wasn’t even in his thirties yet. They chatted for a while, then set off to the cave, like ten years hadn’t passed since they’d last seen each other. They found the path easily enough, and now Todd is staring at the ground, containing the urge to look at the entrance for Neil, because the scene is so familiar and strange and it hurts without him there. They have never been here without Neil before, not like this, not knowing he would not come through that door again.

Charlie Dalton does, though, and it’s almost enough to distract Todd from the thoughts about Neil. Unlike Knox, he doesn’t look more mature in the least. More worn out, maybe, like he’s finally getting tired of fighting the world alone, and definitely skinnier, like he’s sick or starving or has been smoking too much, but, when he smiles at them, it’s the same bright, youthful, wicked smile he always had. They all smile back without even noticing.

“Look what the cat dragged in”, he says, presumably about himself. Knox pulls him in for a hug, exclaiming:

“Where have you been, man?” At the same time that Meeks says:

“How in hell did you even _get_ here?”

It was exactly what they had said the first and last time he had sneaked into school grounds to meet them after his expulsion, and Charlie’s smile widens. He sits down, takes a cigarette out of his pocket, and waves in Pitts’ direction until Pitts hands him a lighter, as naturally as if he did this every day. Then, he gestures towards the book Meeks is still holding and says:

“So, who’s first?”

No one moves. Todd stares at the green cover of the book, as worn out as Dalton, and wonders if it’s the very same they used to read ten years ago, and, if so, how Meeks got his hands on it. He shouldn’t be surprised, not really – after all, this is the boy who created a radio out of scratch when he was sixteen just to mock the school’s rules.

“What do you do now?” He blurts it out before he can think about it, but then it’s out there, and he decides to roll with it. “Are you an engineer or…something like that?”

Meeks gives him a cautious look.

“Yeah, you got it right. Pitts too.” He shrugs. “We stuck to the plan, I guess.”

“Me too. Lawyer.”, says Knox, and they might not be boys anymore, but he’s still too young to sound so disappointed. “It’s cool, you know, that you became a literature teacher. That you did something… different with your life.”

It isn’t that different, really – he went to an Ivy League college, like his brother, got good grades, like his brother, and was recommended to a great job, like his brother. Like most Welton kids, and their parents before them. The different part was getting over his awkwardness, his grief, the death of the only person that had ever seen something that mattered in him, one of the few to ever tell him that what he had to say was important. The different part was learning he had a voice, and that he could use it to help young people to not end up like his best friend.

But he doesn’t want to say that. No one wants to _hear_ that. So he just shrugs and doesn’t say anything. Luckily, Dalton breaks the silence by scoffing and saying:

“Picture-perfect life, huh? Your parents must be _really_ proud.”

It’s not real criticism, the tone is the same he used when they were teenagers and would tease each other, but Todd still feels a bit like he’s being shamed for learning nothing with Neil’s death. He remembers Neil accusing him, at the very beginning of the school year, of not minding what Mr. Keating taught them in class. _I’m not like you,_ Todd had replied, and it was truth. He wasn’t as passionate. He still isn’t.

_I’m not like you. Because I am alive, and you are dead._

He hasn’t written much poetry the past few years.

“How about you, then?”, says Knox, elbowing Charlie on the ribs and stealing his cigarette under a weak protest. “What have you been doing all this time, besides talking shit about other people?”

Charlie gives him a middle finger and takes the cigarette back.

“Much more than you, I’d say. You asked me where I’ve been, well” He pauses for a second, and it suddenly hits Todd that they’re sitting here, in this cave, talking about _work,_ the last thing on their minds when they first came here, and it’s so surreal he feels the urge to get up and just leave and never come back to Welton again. “I’ve been around. To most of the states, I’d say, and let me tell you, there are many interesting things on this great country.” There’s sarcasm on the words, but there’s also honesty.

“So basically you’ve been a vagabond”, says Pitts, with a laugh. “That’s your job.”

Dalton smiles wildly at him. He’s wearing a worn-out white button-up shirt and a tie, combined with black dress pants, and the whole outfit seems like a mockery of their school uniforms. Todd doubts that this is how he dresses nowadays. He probably only put it on for the occasion, for irony, or maybe out of spite.

“Oh, yes, absolutely, I’ve majored in the marrow of life itself.” The reference to the Thoreau poem – to _their_ poem – doesn’t go unnoticed; the atmosphere changes, becomes more nostalgic, heavier, makes it harder to breathe. “I’ve also been in the army for a while, but _that_ didn’t work well, so. Went to college, dropped out, started again.” He looks up at the rest of them, seeming a little ashamed. “Got back to the plan, I guess.”

They stay silent for a long moment. Todd knows that they’re all thinking the same thing: that it’s so unfair that they got a future and decided to waste it on other people’s dreams, when Neil had just died for the right to follow his own path.

They remained dreamers for a couple years after that winter, gathering on Todd’s dorm room to plot against the members of the school faculty, swearing to each other they would keep Mr. Keating’s words in mind and would never let his lessons be in vain. They had memorials for Neil, dozens of them. Todd got drunk for the first time a week after his death, and cried himself to sleep on Neil’s bed, with Knox and Meeks sitting on the floor beside him, trying to comfort each other. In spring, Dalton sneaked into school grounds with a flower crown he had made himself; they had a meeting and he placed it at the center of the cave and sworn to carry on Neil’s legacy.

They suffered together for a while, and, eventually, started suffering alone. There were finals coming, and work to be done, and sports to be played, and other thoughts and feelings to be had. And soon enough, there were college applications to be handled, futures to decide on. And sure, there was still poetry to be read, but there was no one to tell them to do it – and they had just started learning to think for themselves when they were forced to stop.

On their graduation ceremony, they promised to stick together. As years went by, weekly meetings turned into monthly meetings, that turned into monthly phone calls, that turned into annual postcards, that turned into quiet distance. Todd hadn’t realized he missed them so much.

He knew he missed Neil, but that was different, not only because he had loved Neil in a way he had never loved anyone else, but because Neil was dead. Todd could never see him again. The others, though? He wondered how he’d let them get away so easily. He should have fought to keep them close. Maybe, if he had tried harder, he could still have them in his life. And, if he still had them in his life, maybe his life would feel a little more worthy of being lived.

It is Dalton, predictably, who breaks the silence. He reaches towards Meeks with his hand again.

“Give me this damn book”, he says. “Let’s get this party started.”

Todd hasn’t read the poem in a decade. He thought about it constantly – the words are permanently engraved in his mind –, but he didn’t dare reading it, much less aloud. Hearing it on Charlie’s voice after all those years is like a punch in the gut. Suddenly, he is sixteen again, terribly scared of life, mute, in love with his best friend and petrified by the idea of losing him. Learning to rely on his new friends, scared of messing it up, and finding out that they didn’t care if he did.

God, how could he not have noticed he had missed them so much?

“Let me read it.” Again, Todd’s mouth works faster than his brain, which is a novelty to him. He doesn’t delve on the thought right now, though. He gestures towards the book. “I… Can I?”

Charlie hands it over to him, silently. Todd can feel all eyes on him, can feel their surprise; he has never, not once, read aloud in their meetings. Not before Neil’s death, and certainly not after.

He’s learned how to deal with his shyness a few years ago, and became pretty good at reading aloud, now that he’s a teacher, but this is different. When he starts pronouncing the words, he hears a terrified sixteen year-old boy in a classroom, reading from a textbook his teacher told him to. He hears what could have happened if he had faced his fears and used his voice for good when he was younger.

 _“I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms”,_ he continues from where Dalton stopped. There is more, but Todd can't bring himself to speak through the lump that has suddenly formed on his throat. Wordlessly, he passes the book to Knox, who’s sitting next to him.

Knox reads part of the remaining text, then passes it on to Meeks, who in turn passes it to Pitts, until there are no words left to be read. There is another moment of silence, then Charlie says:

“Fuck. Life’s fucking crazy, isn’t it?”

His eyes are watery, and Todd realized he is crying, too; they all are. So, he says the first thing that comes to his mind:

“I wish he could have seen how fucking crazy life is.”

There is never the need to question who he was talking to. With them, “he” is always Neil. They never use his name in vain; he has become their personal patron saint.

“My wife was reading the play. You know the one, that Shakespeare one he was in”, says Knox, suddenly. “I wasn’t sure if I should tell her about it. It’s been so damn long.”

Todd laughs, a bit breathlessly.

“I have to teach my students about this play every year. But I can never read it. All I see when I try is his face that night.”

“I’ve read it”, Charlie murmurs. “A dozen times.”

Pitts shoves the book on Meeks’ hands.

“Read something else”, he says. “Anything.”

And Meeks does. Then Knox. Then Dalton gets up, claps his hands and makes up a stupid, crudely hilarious poem that makes them all applaud him. They light more cigarettes, and Pitts shares the sandwich he brought for the ride, and it’s too damn cold inside the cave, because it’s winter and none of them has ever been able to light a bonfire in here, but they don’t care. For a moment, they don’t care about anything, and it’s the best Todd has felt in a while. He’s still thinking about Neil – in a way, he always is –, but it’s not bitter now. He’s thinking about his smile, and how hard he tried to make Todd fit in with his friends.

 _Well, you got it,_ he thinks. _They’re my friends, too._

He promises himself not to lose touch with them again. He doesn’t want to wait another ten years for a moment like this.

Eventually, it starts getting dark outside, and Todd realizes the class reunion is probably over by now. Carter will be worried if he gets home late, and so will Knox’s wife, presumably, because he is the first to remind them that they have a real life to come back to. After all, time is still heavier than imagination.

The cave seems to shrink again, pressing uncomfortably against their skin, trying to coax them to leave. Charlie puts down the last cigarette of the day and crushes it under his shoe.

“Well, that was a lot more fun than work”, he says. Knox laughs.

“You’re hopeless, Charlie.”

Dalton winks at him.

“It’s Nuwanda, remember?”

Knox remembers. They all do. Meeks says:

“I’ve missed you guys. We should get together some time.”

“Preferentially before we’re forty”, Pitts adds, jokingly.

They all agree. Todd can’t know for sure if they will indeed meet, but the promise is enough for now.

Todd is the last to leave the cave, clutching the green book in hand. He stops at the entrance to look back, imagining the five – six – of them sitting around in their Welton uniforms, making fun of each other and leaving their things all over the floor. He looks at the book in his hand. The last check-out from the library was seven years ago; they probably have new editions, and no one ever uses this old one anymore. The current Welton generation has probably never heard of the Dead Poets Society. They don’t have a Mr. Keating,and they certainly don’t have a Neil. Todd feels for them. And he feels for himself, too, for he doesn’t have them anymore.

Outside, Dalton’s calling him, threatening to leave him behind if he doesn’t move his ass. He takes one last glance to the stone walls before turning around to follow the others. They sneak back to the school building, laughing and shushing each other. Ten years have passed, and they are kids again.  


End file.
